


Baby, It's Cold Outside

by define_serenity



Category: Glee
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 15:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/define_serenity/pseuds/define_serenity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being cooped up inside their apartment for weeks, Sebastian forces Blaine out for some fresh air. And he has his own way of keeping his boyfriend warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday fic for my beautiful wonderful talented angel Anne, because she likes snow : ) 
> 
> I hope you like it, Happy Birthday darling <333

Blaine sniffles, a chill making its way up to his sinuses where it turns into a strange burning sensation that makes his eyes water. The snow beneath his boots crackles with every step he takes, the park blanketed white as far as the eye can see. He digs his hands deeper inside his pockets and huddles deeper into his scarf, wound around his neck three times, his ribs aching from the shivers racking through his body.

“Can we go back inside?” he calls, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other and back again, but the movement doesn’t warm him up.

He watches as his boyfriend digs a branch into one of the three snowballs he stacked on top of each other, the finishing touch to a rather shady-looking snowman.

Sebastian turns around, his nose and cheeks tinged a rosy red. “Why?”

He bounces up and down on his heels, and pouts, “I’m cold.”

Sebastian grins and breaks out into a sudden sprint, and by the time he’s pulled his hands out of his pockets to brace himself, Sebastian has thrown his arms around him, scooping him a few inches off the ground.

“I’m still cold,” he huffs in indignation, but there’s a fresh rush of blood running from the tips of his fingers to his toes. He’s long since accepted he’s dating an idiot, yet he’s constantly surprised that Sebastian still manages to catch him off guard.

Sebastian sets him back down, a gloved hand struggling to push some of his curls back under his beanie. “I thought we agreed you needed some fresh air.”

He reaches his arms around Sebastian’s neck, his jacket riding up around his sides a reminder of how much the temperature has dropped these past few weeks–he’s been cooped up inside their apartment for most of those weeks, enough school work and his boyfriend to distract him. He’s taken to wearing those warm wooly bed socks his mom bought him at all times of the day, even when Sebastian tangled their legs together at night to warm him up.

So he’s not a big fan of the cold.

Cold proved nice in theory, observed from a distance in a Bloomingdales’ winter catalogue or in his favorite Christmas movie–thick wool sweaters and people smiling as they skipped through the snow, children squealing during snowball fights with their friends. In reality it was three layers of clothing that somehow didn’t keep him warm, fingerless gloves he can’t fathom why he bought them in the first place, and a growing aversion towards snow.

Sebastian, of course, absolutely loved cold snowy days where it seemed like the whole world had stopped turning for a while, the landscape turned into a Hallmark card–Sebastian would never say it in so many words, but when he was younger he and his parents shared Christmases in France where they went skiing and later snowboarding, and every New York snow day reminded him of those times.

It’s no surprise then that Sebastian had finally reached his boiling point this morning and dragged him out of bed, took him out for a big breakfast at their favorite cafe, and then coaxed him into a walk through Central Park. A walk that had inadvertently turned into an elaborate plot to turn him into a human icicle.

“There’s a distinct ceiling to that need,” he says–it’s been several hours now, he can’t feel his fingers or his toes and the only reason he hasn’t lost sensation in his ears is because they’re covered by the beanie Sebastian lent him.

He pulls Sebastian down to his height, grateful he still has some control over his lips, and pushes a quick kiss to his mouth, hoping it might convince Sebastian that they could go home for a lot more than just kisses.

“Hmm,” Sebastian hums, rubbing his nose against his. “Tell me what you need.”

“You.” He smiles. “And our bed, and maybe some hot chocolate afterwards.”

Sebastian grins. “After what, killer?” he asks, his body slowly forcing him back.

He raises himself up on his toes this time and captures Sebastian’s lips, the flood of a deep warmth unexpected but welcome, and once Sebastian reciprocates his surroundings all but melt away–Sebastian licks at his lips and his heart beats fast, wonderfully lost in an embrace that has always proved better in reality.

His fingers curl into expensive cashmere, Sebastian’s thumbs rub circles over his cheeks, his heart beating so fast it’s warming him from the inside out–he’d never admit it out loud but he could stand making out with Sebastian in this kind of weather, because he’s starting to feel really rather toasty.

That is until Sebastian moves his hands down (and he might bemoan his protest a little too strong), fingers deftly unbuttoning his coat and pulling the zipper down in one smooth move. He exclaims a huffy, “What are you doing?” because he’d almost revised his opinion on this whole cold thing and his boyfriend was quickly unraveling that.

Sebastian smiles against his lips, “Keeping my boyfriend warm.”

His back hits the tree behind him before Sebastian’s lips are all over his again and he’s torn between the smooth contrast of having Sebastian closer now that some of his layers are gone, and the cold slowly seeping into his remaining layers. But then Sebastian unzips his own coat, body solid and warm against his and it’s so much more pleasant than any layers could’ve provided for him.

“Wouldn’t this be a lot more fun indoors?” he asks, quickly followed with a soft “Oh,” when Sebastian’s hand slides down over his crotch, palming slow circles that start his body pounding. “We can’t do this here,” he hushes out in a single breath, but relaxes against the tree, his boyfriend’s careful ministrations getting him hard, dick straining against his chinos, the heat inching up his spine exactly what he’s been longing for.

“No one can see us,” Sebastian whispers, teasing his lips against his, their breaths like steam between them.

“That’s not what I–” he gasps, any further objection drowned out once Sebastian touches his groin to his and he feels the outlines of his boyfriend’s hard-on through the decreased layers between their bodies. He slots their mouths together again while Sebastian attempts to find a rhythm, complicated by their height difference and the lack of support.

They shouldn’t be doing this here, anyone could wander into this section of the park at any given moment and find them in this compromising position, and then where would they be? But Sebastian finds his rhythm, grinding into him, and his hips match the cadence of their bodies rubbing together–his skin breaks out in goosebumps instantly smoothed out by the intense heat the friction produces, reaching up his back and his chest, all the way up to his cheeks.

His frosty fingertips carelessly reach down for Sebastian’s belt to pull the buckle out of the way. He circles his arms around Sebastian’s body, fingers digging into his fleece sweater, and he holds his boyfriend as close as he possibly can, wanting him impossibly closer without layers and preferably in their homely warm bed, but for the moment his brain short-circuits, and all he needs is Sebastian’s tongue moving against his, the back and forth of their bodies, his dick achingly hard and his body tethering on the edge of orgasm.

He comes with a moan that’s muffled by Sebastian’s mouth, hips stuttering aimlessly and his entire body shaking–Sebastian cries his release moments later, his face beautiful, cheeks redder than they were before.

He sags back and relaxes against the tree again, holding Sebastian close so he doesn’t lose any heat, even though they’re both sweaty and really need to head home to change out of their clothes.

“That better, killer?” Sebastian asks, kissing him again before he gets the chance to answer.

And yes, he’s definitely warmer than he was before, if not in actual danger of catching a cold, but he won’t be skipping through the snow while holding his boyfriend’s hand any time soon.

Sebastian pulls back, “Hot chocolate?” he asks.

He stares down between them. “Maybe a hot shower, first.”


End file.
